


Cosmic Love

by Justme_iguess



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Dancing, Fluff, Juno is a sad boi, M/M, Peter is so in love just look at him, Snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justme_iguess/pseuds/Justme_iguess
Summary: Peter and Juno dance. There's a lil angst because well, Juno is in it.





	Cosmic Love

"Oh, Juno you don't have to be embarrassed. Not around me." Peter says, taking my hands and looking at me like he's telling me I'm safe.

But I don't _feel safe_. I want to sit back down on the sofa that I could never afford and just pretend that none of this ever happened. "Peter, I don't wanna dance." I grumble. 

 

"But I do, and we're going to need to for the party tomorrow." Nureyev says as he continues to smile at me. "Its just a little waltz. Once I can teach you, I promise that you will be wonderful at it!" he holds me close, looking in my eyes. I feel like a child caught in a lie when he looks at me like that. "Juno, you have nothing to fear."

 

"I know, Nureyev. I just..." I trail off, my shoulders slump as I look at the ground. I take a deep breath. "I'm not embarrassed. I already know how to waltz."

 

Peter cocks an eyebrow at me, disbelieving. Hell, I can't even blame him. I don't look like the kind of lady who knows how to dance. Much less dance all fancy. Peter does, though. He looks like the kind of man who knows how to do anything at all. Like if you give him a pen, he can draw you a masterpiece. If you give him an instrument, he can make even a recorder sound great. Its a funny thought, with the act he puts on. I know for myself that he can't draw for shit, and the last time he cooked I think he burned an egg to the pan. At least I can pride myself in being a good cook. 

 

"Love, you don't have to lie to me to get out of this."

 

"I'm not lying!" I say defensively. I fold my arms over my chest and heave out a sigh. "I know how, but I just don't like doing it."

 

Peter kisses my forehead, and wraps his arms around me. He's so damn tall, that he doesn't even have to stand any straighter to lay his chin on top of my curls. All this touching is so abnormal. Weird. Not weird as in bad, but Nureyev is a touchy person and well, I'm _not_. "Well, Juno." he says, and I can feel the vibration of his voice on his chest. "How did you learn to do that. As far as I know they wouldn't have dance classes from where you grew up."

 

"No." I grumble out. "They didn't. I learned it for a wedding."

 

Peter turns stiff as stone. 

 

"For a friend."

 

"For me."

 

I know how Peter looks when he's upset and I can't almost see it now, with his brow drawn, and his lips pointed down. "Ah, I see."

 

I turn away from him, trying to get out of his grip, but he just wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles into my neck. It tickles when he presses a kiss there. "I was gonna get married, but I guess at that time I hadn't figured out that plans like that are just a mess. Better not to make 'em anyways." I swallow hard, and take a deep breath. " 'Guess I shoulda told you earlier, huh?"

 

"On the contrary, its all in the past. I get little bits and pieces from that as we go. There doesn't seem to be a reason why this would be any different." there's another, bigger conversation that will be had later. But not now.

 

Peter breathes on my neck, and I shiver. "Guess so."

 

I can almost see the wedding gown as vividly as if it were here. Red with a hood, and gold lining. Still probably gathering dust in my closet back in Hyperion city.

 

"Would you..." Nureyev clears his throat. "Would it be rude if I asked for a dance? After all that is all in the past, and we're here, darling. In the now."

 

I'm a little off balanced by that if I'm being honest. No ones ever just moved on before. Pretended it never happened. They always wanna ask questions, get answers. I always feel like I'm just standing there, with all my mistakes being shoved in my face. But this man, Peter Nureyev, the man without a name, who is bad at cooking and art, who makes me feel like a tiny star in a vast vacuum of space when we aren't together. He's different. He leaves a big opening for me to say no, and pulls me close into his arms. He cradles me in his warmth, and I feel like I can breathe again. 

 

"Yeah." I mumble under my breath, certain he can here me as I try to kill my smile. "That would be okay."

 

And well, I'm not trying to brag, but I'm really really good at it. He leads, and we work together real well. Even with his tall body, long arms and legs, and my own that is short, we do well together. As if we were always meant to dance like this.Once we get tired, we sit on the couch while the music plays. He sighs, and presses his nose into my hair. "Juno Steel, you are one of a kind."

 

The music is soft and low and very warm.  I feel the heat on my cheeks from the wine we drank earlier. The air seems softer somehow. As if somehow the plush red velvet carpet, and the too-soft couch are in a different universe than Hyperion city. I feel Peter trace my jawline, and lay my head against his chest. I can feel his beating heart. "Could say the same about you."


End file.
